I Will Never Have Another Baby. Endometriosis Took That Away From Me.
Any medical information included is based on a personal experience. For questions or concerns regarding health, please consult a doctor or medical professional.
When I decided to have a hysterectomy at 24 years old, the choice felt like a no-brainer. Being pain-free and being the mother I had always dreamed of being to the two beautiful boys God blessed me with was worth giving up the possibility of having more babies. It was an easy trade off.
Unfortunately, I had uneducated doctors pushing me to make the biggest mistake of my life. I was misinformed and told that a hysterectomy was the only chance at being cured and living a pain-free life. I allowed myself to give into something so easily without digging deep into research, without advocating for myself and most importantly for me, without praying about it.
Five years after my hysterectomy, I am nowhere near being pain-free. In fact, it has gotten worse. For the majority of those five years, I grew so angry. I was angry at myself, my doctors, my husband and even my two extraordinary boys. I was so angry because I was silently and unknowingly grieving over a child we would and could never have.
I’ve been burying myself for years and years. I’ve been burying myself with mountains of unbearable anger and grief. I’ve been hiding my true self and walking around in a daze just trying to get through every day. Some nights when my head finally hits the pillow, I feel like I barely even made it through the day. I promise myself that I will wake up and do better. It wasn’t until I finally let go a huge weight I was carrying that I finally felt like I kept that promise to myself. Sure, I had many days when I woke up and did better than the day before, but I was still just in my daze completely ignoring a part of myself screaming and begging to be let out.
This year, I broke down part of that mountain I’ve worked so hard at burying myself under, and I let go of one of the biggest pieces of myself weighing me down. I physically felt lighter. I felt like a shell of a human that had just been cracked open. I finally let so many feelings out and it felt like a little bit of freedom and a lot more like the real Katie climbing a mountain; not just living under the mountain.
This may sound ridiculous and maybe even greedy to others. After all, I have two beautiful boys that keep my world spinning. Every single morning I wake up and groan to roll over, I’m reminded of what I gave up. Every single flare up that lands me bed ridden for days, I’m reminded of what I gave up. Every time I walk into the ER with my tail tucked between my legs with embarrassment and fill out my medical history, I’m reminded of what I gave up. Every time I’m asked, “Is there any chance of pregnancy?” before the multiple scans I have had over the years, I’m reminded of what I gave up. I am reminded every single day of the sacrifice I made to live a pain-free life. Except I am not living a pain-free life. This became my normal and eventually anger sat right next to the two beautiful boys and helped keep my world spinning.
I realized I snapped at the boys far too often, I was quick to anger with my husband, I shut down around family and friends. I completely lost myself. My anger, grief, depression and anxiety made me miss big moments. Not the big moments, but the little ones that become the big moments when the boys are grown and gone. I was barely even living, and the worst part of it; I didn’t even realize it for far too long.
I have had several moments this year alone where I have found myself saying, “Hi, Katie. There you are. Welcome back.” This time it was really, really different.
I wept. I broke down and I promised to apologize to my family for not being the best version of myself, and for forcing them to sacrifice the big moments with me. I promised to be more mindful of my feelings, to face them head on and to never bury myself again; regardless of how uncomfortable it made me. Breathing so much fresh air after clawing my way up that mountain has been the greatest experience of my life, aside from meeting the three loves of my life.
I will never have another baby.
Endometriosis took that away from me.
I lived in denial, with anger, grief and sadness for years. I let it get the best of me. I finally let it all go, and I can finally breathe again. It’s still gut wrenching to say out loud. I’m nowhere near the top of that mountain, but I am finally climbing.
There is so much in my life that I can’t control, but there are so many things I can control. I never want to go back to a place where I don’t even recognize myself. I’m just getting to know my true self. I can’t wait for you all to meet her, too.
To my husband and boys, I am so incredibly sorry for letting my anger and grief sit next to you in my world. I love you all more than I could ever put into words. The three of you complete me. I am sorry for making you feel otherwise and more importantly, I’m sorry I didn’t let myself fully allow you to complete me. You are the very best part of me.
All my love.
To see more from Kate, visit Undefined Journey.
Lead image via contributor